


Temporary Home

by Sinlesschick6



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Adoption, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Corporal Punishment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Romance, Stiles Feels, Stilinski Family Feels, Supernatural Elements, non-au, other tags, werewolfs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:30:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinlesschick6/pseuds/Sinlesschick6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was adopted by Mrs. and Mr. Stilinski, who originally went to the orphanage for a baby but brought him home instead. Poor, thin 7 year old Stiles. It was a hard adjustment, for both the Stilinskis and the young boy. Especially when he knew they wouldn't want to keep him forever and eventually send him back, just like all the others before them. But here he is, 10 years later and still Stiles Stilinski.</p><p> </p><p>This is going to be a long and troubling journey. </p><p>This is NOT an AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Teen Wolf.
> 
>  
> 
> ***** is Stiles, it's his name, but we don't know is first real name in this story so it's just *****. It will eventually be Stiles, you'll see.
> 
> Song: Mree - Winter

The only memory ***** had of his first mommy and daddy was snow.

 

It was frozen water, mommy told him. But it came in funny shapes and sizes. It sparkled when the light hit it and it changed colors. Like yellow, which mommy told him never to eat. So he only ate the white kind, it tastes like water. The weird thing about it though, was that if you tried to catch it, the snow melted. So that's how He knew mommy told the truth, it was frozen water.

 

***** liked the snow.

 

_Well, he used to._

 

 

The young boy was sitting in the back seat of his car dressed in all his winter gear, quietly 'oohing and ahing' at the snow that would hit his window. It was the only thing he could see out of them 'cause it was dark outside and he was too short to look over, since he didn't have a car seat like the other kids his age. He didn't really mind though, 'cause he liked looking at the snow hit and then melt down the glass.

 

 

While their young boy sat amazed in the back, his mommy and daddy sat in the front. They were using hushed voices, maybe telling secrets or arguing, 'cause they did that a lot. Whatever it was, they didn't want ***** to hear. But he wasn't listening anyway, he was too excited. Excited 'cause his parents were taking him to the park, which he had never been to 'cause his parents were so busy all of the time. But they were finally going 'cause daddy said they could. He said it would help him sleep, which he had trouble doing since his brain never shut off. It was always so jumbly in there and he just wanted to stay awake. That made mommy and daddy very angry. But he couldn't help it.

 

So he was very excited that they came up with this idea, one he liked very much.

 

( _no he didn't_ )

 

"*****, sweetie." His mommy said, not turning around to look at him. _What did she look like?_

_"_ Yes, Mommy?"

 

The woman cleared her throat, she sounded funny. Maybe she was sick. "We're here."

 

The boy grinned, clapping his hads together in excitement.

 

"Go on." His daddy said, the deep voice startling the young boy. 

 

"Okay." The boy went for his buckle, but the button was too strong for his little fingers to press. "Mommy, I need help."

 

She turned, snuffling a bit. Her son was staring down when she clicked the buckle, so he missed he tears that were streaking down her face.

 

The young boy heard the doors click, unlocking. He grabbed the handle and pushed it open. The chill of winter hit him immediately, snow too. But he didn't care, his face lit up right when he saw the playground that he had all to himself. 

 

"Now, *****, your mother and I are going to park, you go and play. We'll be right there."

 

The boy didn't think anything of it, just jumped out, shutting the door behind him and let out a loud cheer. Missing the clicking sound the doors made, locking again. He went on, running in his boots through deep snow all the way to the park. 

 

The thin, pale, mole freckled boy jogged as fast as he could, he was so excited. He wanted to go on the big boy slide first. The child climbed up the stairs, pulling himself up with te railing. Good thing mommy put his gloves on, 'cause snow was all over.

 

"Wow!" He yelled down the slide. It was a big, long green tunnel slide, so it was really scary for just one little boy. But ***** knew his mommy would be right down it when he got out, waiting for him, so he went down it, even though he was scared.

 

He slid down, yelping as he did.

 

Mommy wasn't there.

 

He shrugged. Maybe she was hiding. So he went down it again, just in case. And again. And again.

 

After the sixth time- ***** didn't really know how many times, but he could count to six so he said it was six- he started to get worried. His body gave a shake. "Mommy? Daddy?"

 

He looked all around.

 

No cars were in the parking lot.

 

His head started to hurt, he was confused.

 

He looked back to where he was dropped off.

 

No cars. Not even tracks, the snow was filling them in.

 

 

He just realized how cold he was, 'cause he wasn't moving anymore. But the boy didn't want to play. 

 

Instead, he started to cry. So loud that somebody must have heard him, because he heard sirens and saw red and blue light. But he was so cold, not even his coat helped. So he couldn't remember what else happened, because he was already asleep.

 

 


	2. Acting Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They didn't know what to do with him. He didn't have a name, a family, or a home. And they thought he was just town a tantrum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Youth - Daughter
> 
> Warnings for bullying, panic attacks, and border line victim blaming.

 

They didn’t know what else to do with the boy. Of course they took him to the hospital and sent out a missing child’s report in case his parents were out searching. But they all knew that they weren’t, they all knew that this boy didn’t have parents to take care of him anymore. Parents that didn’t want him. It was pretty obvious what had happened. The boy was clearly traumatized about it. Who wouldn’t be? They questioned the four or five year old, the police weren’t sure. It was a waste of time, the child couldn’t even remember his own name. The doctors said it wasn’t unheard of with situations such as these.

 

“Will he ever remember?” The officer asked.

 

“Most likely,” The doctor pulled his glasses off. “He will never be able to recall the events of tonight or his life before it.”

 

 

_Wrong. He could remember the snow._

So there was nothing left for them to do but put the kid into the system. Whoever the boy was before no longer existed. He had nothing. Not even a name.

 

They sent him to a foster home for boys, where they believed he would receive the care he needed.

 

 

_Wrong again._

 

 

 

 

 

There were eight other boys there. Half of them were there because their parents couldn’t take care of them for now. Two of them were runaways. One was an orphan. And the last one was waiting for adoption papers to come in. He wasn’t there for long, so the boy didn’t feel the need to get to know him. Or any of them, it was only _temporary_. That was what they all kept telling him.

 

“It’s only temporary.”

 

“Just until we get you a home.”

 

“You’ll have a new family soon enough.”

 

“Just you wait.”

 

 

_It was only a temporary home._

 

 

 

 

 

The grownups there wanted him to join in activities, but it was all too new. He was scared they wouldn’t like him or want him, just like his old mommy and daddy didn’t. It wasn’t hard for him to figure it out, he was a smart boy.

 

But that wasn’t the big reason why he didn’t want to play. They kept trying to take him outside. In the snow.

 

They must have not been informed of his situation, because when he screamed and cried and fought, the adults assumed he was throwing a tantrum. He was sent to his room that he shared with two others, not aloud to play board games and drink hot cocoa with the rest of the boys.

 

They were good, he was bad.

 

He didn’t know why though, he was just afraid of being left alone in the cold again. He didn’t mean to be so bad.

 

The same thing happened the next day when they tried to put on his winter gear. The man slammed his fist down and the woman tried to calm him after sending the boy to his room. He cried himself to sleep, trying to understand what he did wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After a week, they gave up on trying to get the boy outside. He was happy ‘cause now he could read the comic books they had, which was way more fun than playing in the snow. Now maybe his throat would stop hurting and his eyes would be so puffy and red.

 

But then he noticed that everyone was acting funny around him. The bigger boys pushed him around and laughed at him. And the grownups were too busy sharing whispers to look in his direction.

 

He tried his best to ignore them.

 

 

 

Until one day he couldn’t.

 

 

The boy was on sitting by the side of his bed, criss-cross apple sauce like he learned to. He was really wrapped up into his comic where Spider-Man faces one of his greatest enemies- the Green Goblin. The bad guy was just about to finish his long speech, the one all villains make right before the superhero kicks their butt, when he heard a knocking. He looked up at the open door, no one was there. Then he heard a loud slam from behind him. The boy looked back at the window where the four older boys were. They were all smiling, but the oldest was still pounding on the window.

 

“Open up!” He yelled, but it was muffled through the glass.

 

The younger child shrugged and got up to unlatch the window. A few of the other kids started to chuckle, but he went on pushing the window open with some struggle. The small child grunted, finally getting it open, shivering at the cold air.

 

“I can’t believe you got the little runt to do it.” One laughed.

 

It was the only warning he had before two of them lifted a bucket and poured it on him through the window.

 

And the snow came tumbling down.

 

He wasn’t screaming or crying like he usually did, but only because he couldn’t breathe. The laughter around him started to fade out, same as his vision. He didn’t know what was happening to him, he was just so scared. His palms became sweaty, his body shook to its own accord, and he felt dizzy, unable to tell if he was up or down. And he was so cold.

 

Someone yelled, “Oh shit.” And then there was more yelling. And hands. He felt them grab at him, trying to soothe him, and calm him down. But he was just focused on trying to breathe.

 

 

“That’s it, shhh.” The woman held him, he wanted it to feel right, but it didn’t. His stomach hurt and his mouth tasted yucky. He looked down at himself, limbs shaking and vomit stained his shirt. He snuffled, feeling snot and tears run.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They didn’t give him a chance, he was just too much to deal with. They sent him away, again and again, in search for a temporary home where the people knew how to take care of him. A temporary home where they could handle him, because apparently he was just too much.

 

He would forever live in a temporary home, and even though it was too much for a small child to understand, he got it perfectly well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you for all the love with my first chapter. Sorry for all of the mistakes, my brain is a jumbled mess and my keyboard jams up.
> 
> So the next chapter will be quite interesting. I'm excited for it, are you?
> 
> So since this is not an AU there will be Supernatural events, just a heads up :D


	3. The Farm House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A classic farm house, or is it?
> 
> The boy needs to learn discipline. They tell him.
> 
> Sir and Ma'am are just the right people for the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: The Civil Wars - The Violet Hour 
> 
> I chose this song cause' it kinda has a twist at the end. 
> 
> Let me know if I accidentally slip and say Stiles in this, it would be a little too early.

They were ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am.’ They were not dad and mom, he wouldn’t call them something they weren’t so he didn’t mind. They were taking him for the summer, away from the boy’s homes and foster cares. Taking him to learn how to be a good boy. To learn how to sit still and be quiet. He was learning discipline. There was nothing to be afraid of, everyone told him.

 

_Wrong._

He packed himself and got into the old truck, sitting between the farmer and his wife. It would have been cramped if it weren’t for his small size. He was frightened, it wasn’t that ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ were mean, but distant. Something about them made the boy shrink himself further into his seat.

 

 

 

 

 

They drove for what seemed like hours and it probably had been. The sun had just risen when he had left with them. It was shining down throughout the entire drive, hot and bright, making the boy sweat and squint the entire way. But now, as they finally turned into what was most likely a driveway due to the mailbox, the sun was going down.

 

His little body started to squirm after he realized that even the ride down the driveway would take long. His legs were bouncing up and down, painfully needing to be stretched out.

 

Ma’am gave him a look.

 

Sir gave him a look.

 

“Boy, is there a problem?”

 

The boy flinched at the stern voice. “No, but I-“

 

“Don’t mumble, boy.” Sir interrupted. “Now I asked, is there a problem?”

 

The boy cringed further into his seat. “No, sir.” He answered.

 

“Good, now quite your squirming, we’re almost home.”

 

 

Home. Home? Wherever they were taking him, it certainly wasn’t his home. He didn’t have a home.

 

 

 

 

 

The house towered over them as they pulled up, seeming to have three or four stories. It looked ancient, painted white long ago, but over time had scraped off and faded, showing the grey/brown wood underneath. There were many windows, several on each level, other than the top, which only had one, small window. The porch was long, stretching across the entire front of the house. An old, gray blue swing hung down from a chain, creaking slightly in the evening breeze. Two chairs sat at the other end of the porch, painted the same color. The whole thing was shaded, being a great place to get out of the harsh sun.

 

The property surrounding the farm house seemed to stretch and stretch. It was dull, other than the grass and a few trees. Tall tree, bare of leaves, scratching at the sides of the old home.

 

It looked like something out of a scary story. Not like a home.

 

 

Sir had Ma’am rush the boy through the home and up the stairs, not even giving him a chance to look around. She scooted him down a hall passing closed doors on their way. They stopped at the end, in front of a particularly large wooden door.

 

“Boy!” The older woman snapped.

 

_Was ‘Boy’ his new name?_

“This is your room.” She pulled the door open and flipped a switch that was on the outside of the door, revealing more steps. “Go on. I’ll be back up to get you for supper.” She nudged him further in so that she could close the door once more. He looked back in reflex, startled at the noise of a lock clicking. A lock that was on the outside of the door.

 

He sighed to himself, turning to look back at the stairs. Fortunately for him, there weren’t too many. He travelled up them, pulling himself closer to his new room. It wasn’t so bad, it was clean at least and well lit with the sun shining through on of the two windows. One in the front and the other in the back. The bed was a little on the small side, but so was he, so it worked out fine. There was a desk facing the front window and a nightstand beside the bed. A lamp sat on top of both, good for a night light.

 

The small boy sighed again then sat on his bed, dust fluttering out.

 

This wasn’t so bad.

 

Home, sweet home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dinner went well, the food was amazing. He hadn’t had a home cooked meal since- well, never. Not even his first mommy cooked, she was always too tired. He was used to cereal and sandwiches, maybe some Mac&Cheese on special occasions. So he was very pleased to have a tummy full of yummy food.

 

“You thank the Mrs. for the meal, Boy.” Sir said.

 

The child swallowed his food down. “Thank you, mo- ma’am.”

 

The old woman nodded. “You’re welcome, Boy.”

 

When they finished, Ma’am cleared the table. The boy sat still, already feeling the Sir examining him.

 

“There are rules here, boy, and you will learn to follow them. That is why you are here.” He glanced up at the man to show that he was listening. “Wake up call is at 9:00 AM and breakfast is served shortly after that. It is your job to get up and get ready for the day before you eat. Afterwards I will give you a list of things that must be completed during the day. Mainly yard work. Once you are finished with the list and the day hasn’t ended, you go straight to Ma’am and do any job she may give you. If she has nothing for you, you may take your break in your room only. Dinner will be at 7:00 PM, wash your hands before coming down to eat. Always be on time. There will be no cursing, slacking off, or complaining. Do all that we say and answer with ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am.’” The man paused.

 

“Uh- Yes, sir.”

 

He nodded then continued. “After supper, you will get yourself ready for bed. Take your bath, brush your teeth, and change into you sleepwear. Go straight to your room, we will come up and lock your door at 9:30. So there will be no roaming the house at night.”

 

The boy thought this very strange, but he didn’t question it.

 

“Don’t ever roam the house, it is not yours to roam. You will learn to respect other people things.”

 

“Er- Yes, sir.”

 

“Good, now go up and get ready for bed.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

His bath was warm and quiet. He went easy on the bubbles, just in case he had to ration the soap. Same with the water, even though he didn’t have to share it with tons of other boys. He didn’t know if he was expected to save on water and time his baths, so he did it anyway.

 

He counted his time. He learned that one minute is sixty seconds, so he would count to sixty ten times for ten minutes. That was more than enough time, he thought.

 

After his fourth sixty, he thought he heard feet stopping just outside the door. Was ma’am there already to tell him to get out? But he didn’t hear anything else, so he resumed washing his hair out, still counting.

 

On his seventh sixty, he heard a tap at the door. He reached for his towel and dabbed at his face with it. “Hello?” He muttered.

 

Silence.

 

He pulled himself out of the tub, dried off, and then wrapped his body up with the towel. He didn’t want ma’am to come in and see him naked. “Hello?” He said a little louder, just in case the old woman hadn’t heard him the first time.

 

Instead of silence, he heard quiet whispers. Barely audible at first, but they slowly got louder, still not enough to understand.

 

The boy shuffled closed to the door, hand nearing towards the handle.

 

The whispers got harsh, sharp enough to hurt the little boy’s ears.

 

Then when the board under his foot creaked, it stopped.

 

Just like that.

 

BAM BAM BAM on the door had him flying back with a yelp.

 

“Boy, what’s taking you so long?” Ma’am shouted through the door. “It’s time to get out.”

 

“Y- yes, ma’am.” His voice trembled.

 

 

 

 

He didn’t want to sleep up there all by himself, especially not with what happened during his bath. But he knew that sir and ma’am wouldn't coddle him, he was there to learn how to grow up. He just wanted a mommy and daddy to comfort him.

 

He hugged his pillow, crying into it.

 

 

 

 

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because was awoken the next morning. He unclenched his fists from his blanket, as he was greeted by a brightly sunlit room and the creak of a door, indicating that he was no longer locked in.

 

But he knew not to let go of his fear just yet.

 

Something else was going on in this house.

 

Something wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you! You guys are great.
> 
> I almost didn't want to end the chapter here, but I love making you guys think. It's fun. haha, so tell me what you think. 
> 
> Sorry that this took longer than expected, I have more written but I'm saving it for the next chapter. Plus~ I went to see Desolation of Smaug- FINALLY- and Sherlock came out ... and I had to watch it ... and I forgot that I had parties to attend to.   
> Sorry, lots of excuses.


	4. The Farmer's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never tell the boy to NOT do something, he'll do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, a lot happened recently in RL. :/
> 
>  
> 
> SONG: Little Dragon-Twice
> 
> WARNINGS- check the end notes if needed (bit of a spoiler)

Nothing else happened for weeks after the incident in the bathroom. That didn’t stop the boy from being scared.

 

He was exhausted that night, Ma’am and Sir pushed him hard, they weren’t cruel, but it was still tiring. He was woken up, fed, and immediately sent out to do yard work. He was too small to use the lawn mower, but that didn’t stop Sir from giving him other jobs. The boy was sent to pluck weeds from the garden and yard, so he was kept busy until lunch. After mid-meal, Ma’am had him help with other parts of the garden. He placed soil down and checked over vegetables, all while Ma’am taught him what he needed to know. She almost seemed happy, just talking, but it quickly faded as they got to work.

 

The sun showed no pity, raining down on him, burning his pale skin. There were no clouds to shade him, nothing to keep him from sweating and panting. He didn’t think much when he got ready for bed, didn’t care. The small boy just wanted to sleep.

 

 

 

 

The boy woke with a start, sweat dribbled down his face, tracing a path along his moles. The short bangs of his hair clung to his damp forehead. The only thing he could hear were his own speedy breaths. It was odd, as if everything was happening slower and stiller that it should, like when you pause a movie frame by frame.

 

Around the room, moonlight shone through one of the windows. He could see dust particles standing motionless in the air of the room. They stood as still as a rabbit right before it hopped away. It seemed that the boy wasn’t the only one that was afraid.

 

‘Close your eyes, pretend you’re sleeping.’ He told himself. ‘There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s no-‘

 

“Wrong!” Something whispered snappishly.

 

The boy’s eye’s flew open. That wasn’t something he just imagined. He sat up, peaking around the room cautiously. There wasn’t anything there.

 

“Wrong!” This time the voice was louder, closer.

 

The boy bolted from his bed, not caring that the floor felt frozen under his bare feet.

 

This time he knew he didn’t just make it up in his head, because not only could he hear it, but he could see it too. See him, he could see him too.

 

Another  boy, a little older than him, stood on the far side of the bed. He seemed to glow a pale blue, despite the fact that everything else that the moon shone down on was grey. He wasn’t wearing any clothes and was shaking, arms crossed over his chest. His hair and body was completely soaked, dripping onto the floor beneath him.

 

“Who-?”

 

The other boy’s eyes flew up and met his. Then the sharp whispering began, piercing his ears, screaming into his skull.

 

“Stop!” He pleaded.

 

He didn’t realize that his feet were moving until he nearly tripped down the stairs. He made it to the bottom without hurting himself. When he went to pull the door open until he remembered that Sir and Ma’am locked it.

 

He cried, banging on the door, begging for anyone to come help him. Whether they heard him or not, no one came. He sniveled, sliding to the floor, nails scratching down the door. His chest felt tight, too tight.

 

No, not again.

 

He couldn’t breathe, the air wasn’t getting to his little lungs. He was trying to scream, but he couldn’t It wasn’t until he saw the blue figure out of the corner of his eye, that he felt something warm in between his legs.

 

Then he blacked out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Oh no! Look at this mess, you’re completely soaked.”

 

The boy woke with the words, his eyes stung. He squinted up at the woman who was in the doorway. His head hurt and his body shook in pain and cold.

 

“Come on, get up and take these filthy clothes off. You’ll have to get right into the bath.” The woman walked off.

 

The boy looked down at himself and immediately felt ashamed. He had wet himself.

 

After he had taken off his soiled garments, he walked, head down and face burning, towards the bathroom where warm water was filling the tub.

 

 

 

 

 

He was glad that they pushed him harder that day, it kept the young boy’s mind off of other things.

 

 

 

 

 

The small boy thought himself crazy. He still worked every day, earning his right to eat and sleep. Even though he never really slept anymore. He was too frightened to sleep. To ensure that he stayed awake, he kept all of the lights on because the just the lamp by its self left to many dark shadows that he could have sworn he saw faces in. He threw his blanket and sheet on the unoccupied curtain hangers to stop the eerie grey moonlight from shining in. During his baths he kept his ears covered just in case the other side of the door was whispering again.

 

The worst part about it, the thing that made him really lose it, was Sir and Ma’am’s reaction. Or their lack thereof. As if finding the small boy cowering at the bottom of the stairs, soaked, was a normal thing. As if him shaking or picking at his food or the growing bags under his eyes were perfectly okay. But it wasn’t as if he was their son.

 

 

He must have eventually gotten on their nerves because for the first time they sent him upstairs after lunch. Locked in, alone with his thoughts.

 

 

He pulled open the drawers of his desk, looking for anything to occupy himself with. Soon he found plenty of papers and crayons, most of them were broken, but they would work okay.

 

His mind wandered as he colored aimlessly.

 

_Who was that boy? Why was he bothering me? Did sir and ma’am hear or see him too? If they did, why hide it? Maybe they didn’t see the boy, ghost, but they were definitely hiding something._

He shook, bringing himself out of his mind, to look down at his drawing. It was a house on a sunny day and beside it was a daddy, a mommy, and a boy. All smiling, happy to be home. The boy sniffed, then grabbed the black crayon to scribble all over.

 

 

 

 

 

During his bath, he found a bobby pin that must have fallen out of the old woman’s hair. He might need this later, something he must have seen on television or something.

 

 

 

They came for him at breakfast, which was normal, but as they finished eating their silent meal, Sir didn’t hand him his daily chore list. In fact, the man had just walked away.

 

“Be happy, today is your day off.”

 

“Day off?”

 

“The Sir and I need to go into town to pick up some things. It’s a long drive, so we’ll be back for dinner.”

 

“Will I-“

 

“You will stay in your room, we don’t need you roaming the house.”

 

 _No, we wouldn’t want that._ “Yes, ma’am.”

 

 

 

 

 

One thing the boy couldn’t stand was when someone told him to not do something. It was a challenge, like they didn’t believe he could do it. Plus adults always put out the temptation and dangle it out in front of him, what else did they expect him to do?

 

 

So of course he managed to unlock the door after sir and ma’am had left. And of course he was going to roam the house. He needed answers. He needed sleep.

 

 

He started in their room, it was plain. There were no photos hung up or on the bedside tables. There was nothing in the drawers. If he were afraid to move anything out of place, there was no reason to. The room was empty.

 

He had already seen the downstairs, nothing of importance there. But upstairs there were plenty of closed doors. Attic, bedroom, bathroom, and two others that he had never opened before. He chose the one closest to the bathroom. Closet. Towels, toiletries, nothing. Last door was at the end of the hall, opposite of his room.

 

Locked. Good thing he knew how to open it.

 

He heard it click. “This has to be something.” He blew out a gust of air before reaching the knob.

 

The whispers started, but he wasn’t sure if they were real of just in his head this time. He pushed, rusted hinges creaking it open. A chill ran through him, causing him to shiver. He flicked the light, nothing. Right, well at least the sun was still out.

 

 

Everything in the room was covered in a sheet of dust. The bed wasn’t made, left with the blanket pulled out revealing a stain. It was a small bed, fit for a small person. A few toys were out, left on the floor beside a toy box. Some army men and blocks. It was a small boys room for sure. Most likely the boy who glowed blue and kept him awake at night, whispering.

 

And if he had any doubt that it wasn’t him, that uncertainty was gone. There beside the bed was the other boy.

 

His first instincts were to run, but that hadn’t gotten him anywhere last time, so he swallowed the fear. “What do you want from me?” He wasn’t able to keep the waver out of his voice.

 

The boy’s black orbs look up at him and whispers spewed from his mouth.

 

“Please stop, I don’t know what you're trying to say.”

 

The whispering went faster.

 

“Talk louder!”

 

Quiet.

 

“Momma, momma. Please help me momma.” It came out as a desperate cry.

 

“Where’s your momma?”

 

The other boy pointed at the wall behind him.

 

He glanced back at a drawing hung up on the wall. A picture of the farm house with a man, woman, and their son. The son who was now the ghost standing in front of him. The son of Sir and ma’am.

 

“What happened to you? Did your mommy or daddy do this?”

 

The ghost boy glared. “It’s my fault! Not momma’s or pa’s, mine!”

 

“What’s your fault?”

 

“This!” The voice was a gurgle and soon the blue boy was coughing up water, shaking.

 

The boy backed away, then took off, slamming the door behind him, not forgetting to lock it.

 

 

 

 

 

He couldn’t sleep that night either.

 

 

 

 

 

When Ma’am opened his door that morning, the boy thought he saw something surrounding her. It looked like a blur, matching what was behind and around her, but still not quite fitting in. But the boy just told himself that his eyes were playing tricks on him due to the lack of sleep.

 

It didn’t go away after breakfast. Or lunch. And it was still hugging her while the boy had garden duty.

 

 

“You remind me of a boy I used to know.” The older woman stated, staring at him, but not really looking. She had never spoken unless she needed to, so the boy didn’t say anything. “He was always moving, mind off in another place. I could never get him to hold still.” She half chuckled. “But he was a good boy.”

 

“Was he your son?” Slipped past the boy’s lips.

 

Ma’am hummed, as if she jolted out of a trance.

 

“What happened to him.”

 

Her smile disappeared. “Don’t roam the house anymore, it’s dangerous” Was all she said before getting back to work.

 

The blur around her stirred.

 

 

 

 

 

He must have fallen asleep, but Ma’am nor the ghost boy had woken him up. No, it was the flash of red and blue light outside his window. He hopped out of bed to catch a glimpse of people pushing in a covered body than pulling away. Shouldn’t they have used their siren?

 

 

 

 

Not long after, a loud bang went off, making his ears ring. One that sent him into a light panic attack, but didn’t allow him any rest.

 

 

 

No one came to unlock the door that morning. He waited a little longer before he couldn’t take the confinement any longer. The boy unlocked the door himself, just as he did just a few days prior. He didn’t care about the consequences. He just wanted out.

 

He crept through the house, scared to make a noise, because everything else was just so quiet. He passed Sir and Ma’am’s room, smelling something unpleasant, so he ran faster.

 

 

 

 

Sir and Ma’am, known as Earnest and Kathrine Morris, died the night before. Kathrine had stopped breathing in her sleep, passing peacefully. Earnest had called an ambulance, even though it was too late. He died soon after, not so peacefully. One shot to the head, self inflicted.

 

Many years before, Kathrine and Earnest’s son, Thomas (Tommy), had died. He was eight years of age when it had happened. The young boy had wet himself in his bed one night, completely embarrassed at his accident. Instead of telling his parents, he decided to take care of it himself. Locking himself into the bathroom to run a quick bath. He must have fallen asleep at one point, drowning in the tub.

 

 

 

 

The boy now running from the farm house didn’t know all that. He knew what had happened, minus all the details. He knew what had happened, but a mind so young- _Did he truly understand it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS for Child Neglect, panic attacks, and mult character deaths.
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> Gosh, have I told you guys that I love yuh? Eh? Well, I do, all your comments make me happy:)  
> Thanks for the support!


	5. Genim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home on the road is no place for a child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAT?! Two chapters in the same week? thats crazy talk...
> 
> Song: MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS- "LIES" ACOUSTIC

He didn’t know how long he was running for. Nor did he know how far he had gotten. He didn’t even care, he just had to get away, to keep running. Then a middle aged couple picked him up. The woman who sat in the passenger seat was burnt in freckles, mostly covering her face and shoulders where she wore just a tank top. Her brown hair was thick and curly, or maybe fizzy was the correct term. She had it down, poofing everywhere. The lady wore a genuine smile that spread cheek to cheek. The man looked a little more gruff, but he was thin, just like his wife. His hair was more sandy-brown, growing past his ears and greasy as if he hadn’t cleaned it in a while. He didn’t seem as friendly as the woman, but the boy wasn’t afraid of him either.

 

“What’s your name, kid?” The man driving the old van asked.

 

“I- I don’t know.” He stuttered, honestly. “I use ta have one, but I can’t ‘member it.”

 

The couple shared a look. “Oh sweetie.” The woman frowned. “Well, I’m Auntie Deb and this here is my husband, Troy.” She hummed. “You have people out looking for you?”

 

The boy shook his head, feeling tears in his eyes.

 

“Ohh, poor thing. Well you can stick with us.” She reached back to wipe away his tears. “It isn’t much, but it’s our home. Would you like that?”

 

The small child felt himself nod, he was so tired.

 

“Get some rest my little Genim.” He heard her whisper before falling asleep due to exhaustion.

 

 

 

 

 

They travelled all over, living in the old vehicle because their home was on the road. Aunt Deb and Uncle Troy took good came of him, sure, sometimes he missed a meal, but they actually talked to him, like they cared about him. Like they wanted him. They didn’t glare at him when he got the jitters and needed to have a break from the car. No, instead the parked on the side of the road, going outside together, even playing with him, teaching him some things. And when he woke up in the middle of the night, crying from a nightmare, Aunt Deb pulled him in real close, holding him, protecting him.

 

He didn’t feel entirely at home, but he was trying.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So Genim, what are you in the mood for?” Troy asked the little boy, sounding as if he already knew the answer.

 

Genim looked up from his crossword puzzle. “Uhhhm.” He thought really hard.

 

Both adults stifled a laugh.

 

“Curly fries!”

 

“Of course, I should have guessed.”

 

“Our Genim sure does love his curly fries.” Deb chuckled, then went back to humming to the radio even though it was mostly just static.

 

“We need to make a quick stop somewhere, and then we’ll all go get some curly fries. Now how does that sound?”

 

“Yeah!” The boy cheered.

 

 

 

 

They walked around a mall, asking random people for spare change. It seemed like they were there forever, not going into any of the of the stores. After the third walk around, Genim’s legs were hurting and he had to go to the bathroom.

 

He tugged on Aunt Deb’s hand that was holding his. “Ma’am, I gotta go potty.” He squiggled, trying to hold it in.

 

“Okie dokie.” She nodded. “Troy.”

 

The man looked down, nodding as well. “Let’s use the next one.” He pointed down a ways, even though there was another one closer.

 

But Genim didn’t argue.

 

“We’ll be right out here when you’re done.”

 

The boy nodded before jogging off to the restrooms.

 

 

 

After he used the bathroom, he felt the panic again. Deb and Troy were liars. They told him that they would wait for him, but they weren’t anywhere to be found. They had deserted him, just like- it wasn’t the first time someone had left him.

 

A hand reached and steadied his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

 

“Are you alright? Did you lose your mommy and daddy?”

 

His voice didn’t work, just snot and tears, so he just nodded, even though it wasn’t the truth.

 

“It’s okay, don’t cry. I’m sure they're looking for you right now, we’ll find them.” The young lady took hold of his hand. “Do you see them?”

 

Genim shook his head.

 

They walked around a bit until, “Oh, my baby!” Deb called dramatically. “Thank you, Thank you! I don’t know what I would do without him.” She looked up at the woman, tears rolling down her cheeks.

 

“It’s no problem ma’am, I’m just happy to help.”

 

“Oh, bless you. Sometimes he just wanders off.”

 

_Why was she lying again?_

“Well, I better get back to my post.” She said, waving one last time at the little boy and Aunt Deb.

 

 

Aunt Deb’s smile vanished and she wiped away her fake tears before rushing both of them back to the car. “Troy will be here in a minute.” Was all she said, taking the driver’s seat and starting the vehicle.

 

Minutes later, Troy jumped in and they sped off.

 

“How much?” Deb sighed.

 

“Not much, not many people in the market for manicure and pedicure items, but it’s enough.”

 

“Are we gonna get curly fries now?” The boy’s stomach growled.

 

“We sure are, sweetie.”

 

 

 

 

 

While Genim was busy stuffing his mouth full of his favorite food, the adults thought it was safe to talk privately in the front.

 

“How much left?”

 

“Just enough for gas to get into the city.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Deb sighed, shakily. “We’ll be fine, we’re always fine.”

 

“Yeah, but usually it’s just us we got to worry about.”

 

The frizzy haired woman looked back, smiling sadly. “What else was I supposed to do?” She sounded broken. “You know I always wanted to have kids.”

 

“I know babe, I’m sorry I could never give you that.” He grasped her hand. “There will be more places to hit in the city. Tons of malls. We’ll find a way to make this work. I promise.”

 

 

 

 

 

He hadn’t eaten anything since the curly fries and that was a whole day before. His stomach was well past growling, it hurt so much. Deb had given him worried looks all morning, but she said that they had to do this before they could get anything to eat. He didn’t feel like walking around the mall anymore. People were giving them dirty looks, especially when they asked for spare change. But the worst thing was that the mall had a food court and the smells made him drool and hi stomach twitch in pain. Aunt Deb said that they had to keep going though. Genim kinda got it, this was their job, or they didn’t have one. Which was weird, because he thought all adults had jobs. Wasn’t that what it meant to be a grown-up?

 

Genim glanced up, just realizing Aunt Deb and Uncle Troy had disappeared on him again. He felt the emptiness again, the panic. The boy began to hiccup for air and snivel to keep himself from crying. People passed by him, some sparing pitying glances, all kept walking by.

 

A man jogged from his vendor. “You lost?”

 

Genim sobbed.

 

“It’s okay, kid. I’ll take you to the security office, they’ll be able to hunt them down for you, alright?”

 

He nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve.

 

“Just let me grab my money box, K?” He had the boy follow him. “Shit!” The man cursed. “Where is it?” He sounded surprised. “My money’s gone!” Now angry, he quickly forgot about the weeping boy.

 

“Sweetie, let's go.” Aunt Deb whispered from behind him. She picked him up and practically ran out of the store. Uncle Troy was pulled up right in the front. A money box was broken open over the middle console, bills spilling out.

 

 

He ate enough to fill his stomach that night, with extra curly fries on the side.

 

 

 

 

They were parked outside of another mall, a lot bigger and nicer looking that any of the others.

 

 

“Are we gonna steal more money?” The boy asked, causing both adults to spin around, shocked.

 

“How did you-?”

 

“It’s not okay to steal. Is a crime.”

 

“He’s a smart kid, Deb.” A tense moment followed.

 

“You shouldn’t steal.” He repeated.

 

“How about I promise you this one last time, and then we won’t do it ever again. Sound okay to you?”

 

Deb gasped, turning to look out the window.

 

Genim thought about it. “Okay.” _What would one last time harm?_

Aunt Deb should have been there by now. His crying had died down, but his panic was building up. Genim was sitting alone on a bench, hiccuping, waiting for someone who was never coming.

 

 

 

 

 

No one had noticed the pale brunette child until all the stores were locked. Security officers walked around until they spotted him. They were rude, yelling at him, making him want to cry again, but he was too tired. He was dragged to the security office where someone eventually he called the police.

 

A nice young man came up with a city police uniform. _Stilinski_ it said. “Hey, son.” He crouched down next to the boy whose feet didn’t even reach the floor. “We’re gonna take you home, don’t worry.”

 

Genim was shaking.

 

“What did you guys do to the poor boy?” He glared at the guards who just shrugged. The officer shook his head. “You wanna get out of here?”

 

The boy looked up at him, nodding cautiously.

 

“How about we get milkshakes and curly fries?” Stilinski hoped he could help the kid find his parents.

 

The boy immediately brightened at that idea.

 

“Good, I know a place.”

 

 

 

 

The small boy was cramming his mouth with as many fries that would fit.

 

The man chuckled. “My wife would kill me if she found out I was eating here.”

 

The boy gave him a small smile, food hanging from his mouth.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

The boy made a sour face. “I don’ really have one, but one lady and man called me Genim.” They both chuckled.

 

 

“I’m gonna take you to the station after this, so we can get you back to your parents.” He promised.

 

“Don’ have any.” The boy mumbled.

 

“What do you mean, son?” The young man lifted a brow.

 

“I’m a- one of those. My parents left me.”

 

‘The kid was an orphan,’ he thought, rubbing a hand down his face. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

 

The small boy shrugged. “I’m bad, no one wants me.”

 

“I’m sure that’s not true. I gotta take you to the local kid’s home, they’ll take care of you.”

 

Genim shook his head, tears escaping. The officer grabbed napkins to dab them away.  

 

 “I’m sorry, kid.”

 

 

 

 

“Please don’t leave me here.” The thin boy begged.

 

The officer gave him a pained look, he really wished he could do more. He went to turn and leave, but arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him. Workers at the home tugged him away. “Wait!” He yelled, reaching down to hug the boy, who held on tight, sobbing into his uniform.

 

He had to let go eventually, though.

 

 

 

 

 

The boy tried to sleep that night. He couldn’t believe that the grownups put his name down as ‘Genim.’

 

_Stilinski_

_Stilinski_

He wanted to remember that name forever. Remember that nice policeman. He’d call himself ‘Stiles’ now.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks you guys! <3
> 
> sorry for any mistakes


	6. The Perfect Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Sorry this took longer than I expected, it was kind of a difficult on for me to write.
> 
> WARNINGS for abuse. I understand that some people don't consider spanking as abusive, but if you take your anger out on your child and/or aren't in your right mind, it isn't okay.
> 
> Song: Wallflower - Peacock Affect

Summer was nearing an end, bringing on his first year of school and another family. It wasn’t a foster family or different children’s home. No, it was the real deal. A man and woman who had money and a house- a real house.

 

Somewhere deep inside Stiles had hoped it was the policeman he had grown to idolize that would come rescue him again, but of course it was useless. He left him, unwanted, just like the others before him had.

 

Just like the others after him, too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rachel and Philip Ling, 27 and 30 years old, struggled with their marriage. Of course they never were outward with their problems, that would just be pathetic. With the status they were trying to hold, their troubles would become the joke with their wealthy friends and colleagues. The couple held back arguments until they were alone. Rachel would yell at her husband for hours, listing everything he did wrong that day. Phil would drink afterwards, cursing and taking out his anger on everything that stood in his way. It would get pretty frightening.

 

Somehow- before, during, or after one of their fights- they agreed that maybe making an addition to the family would help. They skipped on buying a dog or cat, because they were filthy. So a child it would be. Not one of their own, oh no, Phil didn’t want Rachel, his perfect wife, gaining weight. And both of them were disgusted at the thought of changing a diaper or wiping snotty noses. With all that crying and slobbering how would they ever get anything done? They wouldn’t have anymore time to themselves or their friends. A baby just wouldn’t fit into their lifestyle.

 

It would have to be a child. Old enough to be able to take themselves to the bathroom and preferably one that wasn’t home for most of the day.

 

That kid was Genim (Stiles).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The house was huge, larger than any of the others on the block. As if they were all trying to out do the house before them, and they ended up winning. Their homes reflected the owners, unreasonably extravagant and full of lies.

 

The lawn was well manicured, freshly mowed and constantly watered. There was a pool in the back, clean of leaves and other filth. The inside was spotless, with nothing out of place. Expensive art was hung on the walls and glass sculptures sat on desks, just one bump would send them smashing to the hardwood floor. They had a sitting room filled with leather furniture and a spotless white carpet. Across it there was another room just like it, but with a different colored carpet. It had a large television with a DVD player, playstation 2, and other devices in it. The kitchen was beautiful, but obviously rarely used by the lack of food in the fridge and pantry. It was mostly used when preparing meals for guest and large parties. It was all for looks.

 

It wasn’t the home Stiles had been hoping for his whole life, it was a display. A show for others, telling them how much better they were than the rest.

 

That was the reason they adopted Stiles as well. He was just something Mr. and Mrs. Ling could flaunt, their own obedient child.

 

Their perfect life, their perfect family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lings were very generous, giving the boy plenty of things to keep himself occupied with, which was another way of saying ‘out of their hair.’ Stiles had his own TV with a Nintendo 64 along with games, books, and toys. He had an enormous bed, much too big for a boy his size. His feet weren’t even close to the edge and his arms didn’t reach the sides if he was in the middle. It made his nightmares seem worse, being surrounded by dark shadows at night. It hurt for him to admit it, but he had missed Aunt Debs comforting arms around him. But that was a long time ago, months, but it felt like years.

 

It didn’t matter, though, these people would send him back soon. It was just a matter of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles was in his bedroom, just as he always was, doing his homework. His teacher gave them a blank sheet of paper to take home to color his room and label the things in it. It was really fun!

 

He was finishing up his drawing, adding his red Gameboy Color that sat on his desk, when he hears a loud crash. Muffled yelling followed the mess, both male and female voices. Stiles couldn’t help but jump from his spot on the floor in fright. One would think he was used to all of the fight, they had done it practically every night since he got there, but he was still scared enough to want to hide. He didn’t, but he should have.

 

The door swung open, an angry drunk man on the other side. Philip Ling was holding himself up in the doorway, fists clenched and teeth grinding. It had Stiles backing away in fear. “Where you goin’, lil’ shit? Know yer in trouble?” The man of the house moved into the room. “Gotta call from yer school. Said yer sleepin’ in class an’ actin’ out.” His words were slurred, but Stiles heard them loud and clear.

 

Acting out- that made him want to cry.

 

“Yor need’n a prop’r punishment.” Mr Ling cracked his neck and grasped his belt, pulling it from the jean loops.

 

There was a gasp from the entrance. “Phil, what the hell are you doing?!”

 

“Non’ of yer damn business, get out!” The woman hesitated, giving Stiles an apologetic look before walking the way she came.

 

The man turned back to slam the door. “If you don’ get punished, you can’t learn. Now what kinda father would I be if I didn’ help yuh learn?” He scoffed when Stiles’ bottom lip wobbled, already near tears. “Turn around an’ face yer bed.” He waited for the boy to obey. “I’ll give you two swattings, so don’ chu dare move after the first.”

 

Stiles knew it was coming and that it would hurt, but he still jumped when the looped leather belt hit. He yelped and grabbed his stinging bottom as a reflex.

 

“Move your hands or I’ll hit them too. Trust me, it’ll hurt more it you don’ listen.”

 

Stiles wrapped his arms around himself to keep them protected.

 

The second swat had him frozen.

 

“That’ll teach you.” The man left, already sounding sober.

 

Stiles fell into his bed, curling up in shock. Then he cried himself to sleep, wiping his snot into his shirt and blanket, but not caring.

 

 

 

Sometime in the middle of the night he was woken up, but not fully. “It’s okay sweetie, go back to sleep.” Mrs. Ling pet his hair, comfortingly. “I’m sorry.” He thought he heard, but he was already asleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The spankings became a almost daily thing. He tried really, really hard to be good, but Mr. Ling had always found something about him unpleasing. Sleeping in class, acting out in school, not cleaning up his toys, being late for dinner, and sometimes he didn’t even tell him why he was in trouble.

 

At least he got hugs on the nights Philip was angry with him, they helped him sleep at night, even when the woman giving them didn’t stop her husband from beating Stiles. It still felt good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was good during the adult’s party, Mr. Ling told him so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was standing in front of his bed again, three strikes in and crying. It was his fault, he had been good all week and he blew it by dropping his juice on the white carpet in the sitting room. He shouldn’t have been in there, but it wasn’t as if there was a rule that said he couldn’t. But there was one that said no taking drinks into the sitting room, so maybe he should have listened.

 

“Do you have any idea how much it is going to cost to replace.” Another smack. “You never listen!” Another, one that had him moving his hands to where he could tell was red.

 

He wailed as his hands got a hard smack.

 

“I told you I would smack them if they got in the way.”

 

Stiles grasped his bright red hands, they were shaking they hurt so bad. He got one more hit and then the man left. Leaving the small boy crying into his pillow, it muffled them only a little.

 

 

Rachel didn’t visit him that night, so he didn’t get any sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He knew the school called about him not being active in class, because he wasn’t. But Phil still hadn’t come in to reprimand him. In fact, both parents were acting as if he didn’t exist. Stiles might have hated that more than always getting in trouble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They had him sit in the sitting room for the first time since he spilt his juice in there. The stain that he made was wiped from existence, like it was never there.

 

“So Genim-“ She paused, as if not remembering why they had him in there. Mrs. Ling looked to her Mr.

 

He cleared his throat. It was strange for the boy seeing him like this, almost happy- he’d never seen him like that. “Rachel is pregnant.”

 

Stiles’ eyes widened- was he gonna be a brother? Wait, why did he phrase it like that? With her name.

 

“We adopted you, because we didn’t think we would want kids of our own, but this has been a real eye opener.” She smiled. “Do you understand what I’m saying.”

 

The little boy shook his head.

 

“We’re getting rid of you.”

 

“Phil!” She snapped.

 

“It’s true, what else is there to say?”

 

They continued bickering, Stiles couldn’t listen to it anymore. He saw this coming, from day one, but it still was a shock.

 

He looked down at the stainless carpet. It was just like him, the stain. Something that made people angry. Something that was worthless. Something that only ruins. Now he would be replaced and wiped from existence. As if he was never there, just like the stain.

 

He was a stain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! :)
> 
> You guys have been great.
> 
> So this is the last 'family' I have before the Stilinskis! Super excited. Hopefully I can get the next one up before Feb 10, because I'm getting my wisdom teeth pulled. XD


	7. Tell Mama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wondered if she had any of her own and if she did, the boy envied them. To have a mother like her would have been amazing. A mother like Claudia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spoil you because I love you.
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING angst and freaking adorableness.
> 
>  
> 
> SONG: Tell Mama-The Civil Wars

There was a young woman at the shelter, with long strawberry blonde hair and a kind smile that spread across her rosy cheeks. She didn’t work there, she volunteered, as if she wanted to be there. Spending her day with snot-nosed, smelly, pitiful children like it was fun. Well, not children, babies, seeing as Stiles was the only kid above the age two there. The lady spent most of her time with the toddles, cooing over them and giving them care. She looked at them with a sparkle in her eyes, unlike the workers who just held them when they needed a holding and changed them when they needed changed. The woman obviously cared for them. Stiles wondered if she had any of her own and if she did, the boy envied them. To have a mother like her would have been amazing. A mother like Claudia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a really, really boring day. School was out for Thanksgiving break and while all the other kids at his school eating a home cooked meal with their families, Stiles was stuck with a bunch of babies.

 

There was nothing special to do there at the shelter. No games, no movies, and no toys- unless you counted baby toys, but there was no the first grader was going to be caught with those. So he just sat, bored and grumpy, on the couch. The guest couch, which was meant for couples interested in adoption. So what? They weren’t there for Stiles, so why did it matter if he was on it?

 

“Hey, kiddo. What are you doing out here all by yourself?” A woman’s voice asked from behind the sofa.

 

Stiles was about to snap at whoever it was, but he glanced and saw the wisp of reddish hair. “Uh- hi.” His voice was quiet.

 

“You want some company?” She smiled, patting the cushion.

 

The small boy shook his head and looked down with a red face.

 

“You sure?” She pressed, but got the same response. “Okay, well if you change your mind, I’ll be in the kitchen. I brought something,” She held up a foil wrapped plate. “But I’m not sure if I can finish it all.” Claudia winked before walking back to the kitchen.

 

Stiles’ stomach growled while his brain contemplated, so of course his stomach won. That food smelled incredible.

 

“Oh, I see you decided to join me.” The woman chuckled, scooting the stool beside her out with her toe. Stiles climbed it and rested his chin on the counter. Claudia pulled out a plate from underneath the one with all the food, then began splitting everything equally. “I hope you have an appetite.”

 

The boy nodded, practically drooling.

 

“Good.” She passed him the plate, which he dove right in to.

 

They ate in mostly ate in silence, up until Stiles began to get full, but still determined to finish his plate. “I’m glad to see someone like my food.”

 

“It’s really yummy.” He confirmed in between bites.

 

“I wish my husband had the same taste buds as you. He’s always telling me ‘Clauds, this is fine, really fine, but could you maybe, I dunno, dumb some steak on it.’” She laughed and he giggled. Why would anyone put steak on turkey? “He’s always wanting something fatty. I’m just trying to be a good wife and feed him healthy.” She glanced away, sighing.

 

“How come you aren’t with him?”

 

She sighed again, with a sad smile. “His job doesn’t stop, not even for holidays.”

 

The small boy nodded. “What’s he do?”

 

“He’s a deputy.”

 

Stiles’ eyes lit up. “Wow, so he like- helps people all the time.”

 

Claudia hummed and took his clean plate. She was washing them in the sink when her phone chimed. “Hey, hon.” She answered, holding the cell to her ear and continued to scrub. “No, I just came to shelter for a visit.” She paused, listening to the other person. “John, calm down- I know, I’m sorry.” She smiled, even when her voice sounded apologetic. “Yes, yes- I’m almost done here, I’ll be home soon. Yes, I finished making dinner. Love you, too. Bye.” She hung up the phone, turning back to Stiles, who was still sitting on the stool. “Well, it sure was nice of you to help me eat all that food.” She crouched down so that they were eye level with one another. “I’ll see you again next week.” She stuck out her hand and he shook it.

 

Stiles went to bed that night, happier and fuller than ever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stiles was on his bed, crying. He went in there angry at first, but the more it built up, the more emotional he’d gotten. His body was just exhausted at fighting it and he needed a release.

 

There was a quiet knock on the door. “Hey, buddy.” Claudia peeked through the door, smiling until she saw the boy tearing up. “What’s wrong? What happened?” The woman sat on her knees by his bed.

 

The boy shrugged, looking to the floor.

 

“Hey.” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Look at me.” She said softly. “Now tell me what’s the matter.”

 

Stiles snapped his mouth closed.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

He shook his head.

 

“Are you sick? Do you not feel well?” She placed her hand on his forehead, but he shook it away. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

 

He shrugged again.

 

“Don’t give me that.”

 

Stiles sighed. “I’m just- mad.”

 

Claudia moved from the floor to sit next to the boy on the bed. “Has someone made you angry? At school, here?”

 

“Everywhere. I’m just-“ He made a small growling noise.

 

“Oh, calm down.” She giggled.

 

He couldn’t help but smile, too. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” The first grader said, losing his smile and looking at the carpet again.

 

Claudia cleared her throat and scratched her head. “You just have to-“

 

“Please don’t lie to me.” His eyes watered.

 

“I’m-“ Her voice broke slightly. “What’s your name?”

 

“Everyone calls me Genim, but-“

 

“But you like to go by something else?”

 

He nodded. “Stiles.”

 

Claudia chuckled. “I like that one better.”

 

“Me too” He murmured.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Stiles.” The familiar voice had the boy smiling up from his homework. “Whatcha workin’ on?”

 

“Math.” He looked back down and scribbled in answers with his pencil.

 

“You need any help?”

 

Stiles shook his head. “Nope.”

 

“You sure?” She said, eyebrows raised.

 

“Uh-huh, my teacher says- she says I’m good at math. And I always get good scored on em’!” He smiled.

 

“Oh wow, really. I’m terrible at math, you must be a thousand times better than I am.”

 

“A thousand? No way! Grown ups are good at math, you’re uposed to be.”

 

Claudia chuckled. “Not if you don’t have to be, you aren’t.”

 

“Really?” The boy said in awe.

 

“Really, I don’t have any math homework.”

 

“Wow, grown ups sure are lucky.”

 

The strawberry blonde just smiled and Stiles went back to work.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Want to help me with some word puzzles?” Claudia asked the small boy.

 

He shrugged. “I dunno if I’d be any good at those.”

 

“C’mere, I’ll show you.” She patted the cushion next to her’s on the guest couch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Tell me what happened.” They were in his bedroom again, on the floor this time.

 

Stiles had his knees pulled up to his chest, squeezing his little hands into his pants. “Jackson made fun of me at school today.”

 

“Again?” She patted a hand through the boy’s hair.

 

He nodded. “He got everyone to laugh at me, ‘cause I fell asleep during class.”

 

“Why did you fall asleep at school, sweetie?”

 

“I have bad dreams and can’t sleep.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with that, that boy should have a good talkin’ to.” She squeezed his shoulder. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, everyone gets nightmares.”

 

“Yeah?” Stiles rubbed his hand in his eyes.

 

“Yeah, just last night I had a dream I was driving on a mountain and it kept raining, when all of a sudden a giant potato get’s in the middle of the road and I hit it. Potato chips go flying everywhere. Then I had to eat chips for like a month. It was awful!”

 

She had Stiles giggling near the end of her story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were doing another word puzzle together, Claudia was stumped and Stiles was zooming through it. She had created a word monster. She snorted at her own joke.

 

The boy peeked up at her like she was crazy. A burst of laughter, from both of them, followed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you think-“

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Never mind.” He said too quickly.

 

“Oh no you don’t.”

 

“Well,” He looked down at his socks. They were very interesting socks. One was orange and the other was green. Bright orange and darks green.

 

“Stiles?”

 

Oh, right. “Do you think anybody would want a kid like me?”

 

Her face went from amused to concerned. “Well, of course! Who wouldn’t want you Stiles?”

 

“Lotsa people.” He mumbled.

 

Claudia gripped him in an embrace. He hadn’t been hugged for so long, he buried his face into her shoulder. “You’re amazing, Stiles. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

 

“What about you?” She hugged him tighter before backing away to look at him. “Can’t you take me home with you?”

 

“I’m sorry, Stiles. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

 

“Why?”

 

She brushed her hair over her shoulder. “There’s a lot of paperwork and this is something that would have to be discussed. It’s a long process. I’m really sorry.” She tried to hug him again, but the child retreated to his bedroom. Claudia must have left after that, because he didn’t see her after.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Claudia didn’t come back to the shelter for a long time after that, not even to see the babies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was bored, everything was so boring. Even word puzzles, which he usually enjoyed, were boring. And they made him sad, everything that seemed like fun when Claudia was around made him sad. It was all his fault, he ruined everything and lost his friend. He told himself that it would have happened anyway, but he really, really wanted her to be different.

 

 

“Genim.” One of the shelter workers called and he sneered, not being in the mood for whatever she was about to yell at him for.

 

“Yes ma’am?” He called from his spot on his bed.

 

“Could you please come here?”

 

The boy sighed, lazily getting up and taking his time to the sitting room. He stopped behind the couch. They were faced away from him, but he knew that beautiful strawberry blonde hair anywhere. “Yeah?” He could feel the confusion in his own face and his heart was beating in his throat.

 

“This is Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski.”

 

No way. He walked all the way around to look at them. It was him, the same officer who helped him.

 

“I see you remember me.” He chuckled.

 

The boy nodded, jaw still dropped.

 

“I’ll let you all get reacquainted.” She was actually smiling when she left.

 

“What’s-“ The boy couldn’t even finish his question.

 

“Stiles, you’ve become really dear to me these past months. I have been visiting here for a long time. I love kids and we’ve always wanted one of our own, but it just isn’t possible for us. We were looking into adopting a baby, but we’ve been kind of stuck. And then I met you, you really are an amazing and bright young man.”

 

Stiles didn’t know what she was talking about.

 

“My husband and I talked it over, and of course there will be lots of paperwork and time to put into this. But I find it will be all worth it, to see that I can be someone you might call ‘Mama’. If you’ll have me- us, of course.”

 

 

Stiles felt his eyes water. “What?”

 

 

Claudia Stilinski moved so that they were eye level. “Stiles, would you like to come home with us and be our son?”

 

 

No one, none of the others before them, had ever asked Stiles if he wanted to be part of their family. He never had a say, until the Stilinskis.

 

He bit his lip, crying, but not caring. “Please.” And ran to hug them both. Crying in their arms. It felt safe. It felt wonderful and loving. It felt warm.

 

It felt kinda like home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think! :)
> 
> I know, I know- he isn't quite the Stilisnki's yet, but I had this idea and I went with it and I freaking love it.
> 
> Thank you so much for the Kudos and Comments and everything else.
> 
> Sorry for any mistakes.


	8. Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some warnings in the end notes, there are some triggers. And the explanation that I owe all of you.

They knew it wasn't going to be easy. It never was. But they had hope, and that had to count for something. 

 

Just like that. She was gone. 

Well, not instantly. They all knew for several dreadful months that this was not something she would get back up from. For months she had struggled, and for months she fought, and for months she laid there, and for months she just stopped. So maybe the person they knew died a long time ago, but it was their hope that didn't. No. Their hope lasted until the moment everything came crashing down. When one last silent breath was released, and none other was taken. When the heart monitor screamed, flat lining and calling in nurses and doctors. They all rushed in, prepared to give it their all. But their all wasn't enough to get her to breathe, to revive her. Nothing was enough to bring back Mommy. And with her, hope was dead as well. 

 

 

You can’t hold onto hope forever. That would be like believing in Santa or the Easter Bunny, even after your parents broke the news to you. It would be childish to not let go, even after other kids shoved you down and laughed at you for not giving up. You would be stepped on, even if all you were doing was hoping. Hoping that you were right, that everyone else was truly lying. Hoping for one person to come along and be on your side. One person, anyone, no matter who it is, as long as they were honest. One person to connect with, bringing your hope up, then finally knowing that you were right all along. But you wouldn’t get that, because you were wrong. Your hope was a lie, not even worth the try, and then it fades. And all it took was one person- one thing- to completely diminish the prayer. One thing to chip away at the last piece. To kill hope. Crack it, break it, make it shatter, collapse, fall, burn, make it disappear. It just takes one final thing, then the hope is gone. You give in, shrug at the pain, because really, it cannot hurt you anymore than it already has.

You can find the pattern, study it, memorize it, and forever expect it. Expect it, because it will always happen, and nothing can change that. Never forget. Never trust. Never hope.

 

 

 

He was sitting alone at the counter, a piece of paper in front of him. His large light brown eyes, that seemed to almost glow gold in the sun, slightly glistened. They seemed to be trained to the paper, but a closer look would suggest that the boy was spacing out, not really looking at anything. His mouth was turned down into a deep frown, one that only came out when he thought no one was looking. His flesh was pale, highlighting his mole speckled skin and the dark purple circles under his eyes. 

 

That was what Claudia Stilinski first saw when she walked into the kitchen. Her son, because she could legally call him that now after a nearly a year of waiting, sitting sadly on his stool. “Hey, sweetheart, how was school?” She gave him a reassuring smile when the boy’s eyes fluttered up at her. He shrugged and let his sight drop. “Did something happen?” Another shrug. “Well, do you wanna talk about it?” Her son swiftly shook his head ‘no’ and looked down. The new mother moved over to the stool beside the boy. “You know, when I was little, when I was sad or just had a bad day, I knew I could always come home to my mom. And she would bake me cookies, give me a glass of milk, and sit me down. We would just talk and talk. It always made things better. And I know that if you tell me what’s on your mind, we could fix this together. You don’t have to face this stuff on your own, baby.” 

 

Stiles sniffed, rubbing a small fist into his big eyes, that began to water a little more. He mumbled something that Claudia couldn’t quite catch.

 

“What was that Stiles?” She leaned in closer to her son.

 

He finally faced her, a tear escaping his eye. “Can we make cookies, too?”

She didn’t try to stifle her giggle. “Of course we can, baby. Of course we can.” That earned her a smile.

 

 

She pulled out the pan of molasses cookies, put them on a glass plate, and poured her and her son a cup of cold milk. “Thank you, mommy.” They took their first bite together, both humming from the warm, tasty cookie. 

 

“You feel like talking now?” She looked over at Stiles.

 

The boy took one more bite of the cookie, placing it on the counter and washing it down with a sip of milk. He didn’t look at his mom, but she could still see the mustache that the milk had left behind. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He mumbled quietly.

 

“Nothing you say could ever give me a reason to be mad at you.” She said honestly.

He sigh out shakily. “It’s so stupid. We had these dumb homework questions, ones that were impossible for me to do. I told that to the teacher and she didn’t listen. Said I still had to do them, but I couldn’t. So today Ms. Bradley sent me to the principle, I ecplained it to him too. But-“ Stiles hopped off his stool and opened his backpack, which was on the floor beneath his stool. “He gave me this, I’m s’posed to give it to you and Dad.” 

Claudia took the slip of paper from her son and read over it quickly. ‘They need us to come in for a behavioral problem over a homework assignment?’ She thought to herself. “Honey,” She set the paper down to focus on Stile. “What was the homework questions they gave you?” 

“I had to write down these things called ‘traits’ that I got from my- ‘biological parents’.” He said quietly.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll go in and fix this.” Mrs. Stilinski hugged her son tightly.

 

“I don’t know what kind of establishment you’re running here. Bullying children, that real low.” Claudia Stilinski pointed her finger accusingly at the red faced principle hiding behind his desk and Stiles’ 3rd grade teacher, already sobbing quietly. “Well, you two sure picked the wrong kid to pick on. I bet you thought I would just stand back and let you, boy were you wrong!” She laughed, puffing out her chest. “If this happens again, I’m sure my husband, one of the Under-sheriff of Beacon Hills, would be happy to take time off from hunting down criminals to talk with you.”

 

“I’m sure that wont be necessary.” He blurted.

 

“Good, good. Then you both can say your apologies to my son, and we’ll be leaving.”

“We’re very, truly sorry.” The principle still couldn’t rise from his seat. “Aren’t we Ms. Bradley?”

 

“Yes.” She hiccupped. “Sorry. Sorry.”

 

Claudia nodded to the two adults and took her son’s hand. “How does ice cream sound.” She smiled down at her boy.

 

“Really?!”

 

“Of course.” She giggled at her son’s cheering. The little boy ran for the door and held it open for the best mommy he could ever ask for.

 

 

Claudia was already in bed, peering at her husband through the open bathroom door. He was brushing his teeth, literally foaming at the mouth, and making faces at himself in the mirror. His wife couldn’t suppress her chuckled. “You’re such a dork.”

John Stilinski spat in the sink, rinsed, and whipped his face with the hand towel. “Oh, I’m sorry, wasn’t that why you married me.” Wiggling his eyebrows as he crawled in bed.

“Well, it wasn’t because of your dashing good looks.” She scoffed, falsely. 

 

“Oh shush.” He kissed her cheek, then her pink lips. “So I down at the station, I heard about you giving a free lecture at Stile’s school today.”

 

“Damn, this town sure loves to gossip.” She mumbled. “I was taking care of our son.” Claudia said defensively.

“Yes, that what I heard.” He pulled her in for another kiss, wrapping himself around her smaller, leaner frame. “You’re the best wife I could have asked for and the best mother anyone could have.” John Stilinski said, before settling in for sleep.

 

Claudia smiled and snuggled up with the love of her life.

 

 

It wasn’t the first time his night terrors had woken the whole Stilinski household up from their slumber. 

 

He never really talked about them, even if he remembered what they were about. They started out as small whimpers, and if his parents caught them in time, they would help him wake up. If not, they got worse, ending in panicked screams and more than often, wet sheets. John would run a bath, while Claudia coaxed him out of the bed, starting with the wet clothes, then tearing off the sheets. John would come back in, grabbing them and taking them for a wash. His mother would then carry him, sometimes still crying, into the bathroom to help him wash up. While they’re finishing up, his father has already placed down new sheets and a towel. They all knew the drill.

Stiles and his mommy would lay down, John going back to bed because he’s needed at work in a few hours. Sometimes she would tell him a story, or sing him a lauliby, no matter how tone deaf she was, to Stiles it was honestly just like an angels. Other times they would just lay down, his mom petting his hair, helping him fall back to sleep, if possible.

She never made him talk about what he dreamed about, which Stiles was glad for. “I love you, mommy.”

“I love you too, baby.”

 

 

Stiles had been coming home with a big toothy smile on his face all week, his mother didn’t know whether to be worried or happy for him. 

“Hey Claud,” John came in one of these evening, getting off shift early, still in his uniform. “Is it just me, or is our kid actin’ weirder than usual?”

The redhead laughed at this, ‘no point in worrying if Officer Stilinski is on the case.’

John gave his wife a look. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m the only normal one here.” With that, he kissed his wife and headed up the stairs for a shower.

 

“Uhm-“ Stiles broke the unusual silence at dinner that Thursday night. The slender boy was moving meatballs around his plate, having already eaten all of his pasta. He noticed his parents staring at him out of the corner of their eyes all dinner, but didn’t really mind it. “I was wonder. Erm. Well.” He nibbled on a chunk of meat. “Nevermind.” Stiles mumbled, tossing back the rest of his food.

 

“You know you can ask us anything, sweetie.” Claudia placed her hand next to her son’s.

 

“Okay, well, there’s this new boy at school. And he’s REALLY cool. Like, he said his dad is a secret agent and his mom cuts people open and sews them back together again and they have a huge tv.”

 

“Oh!” Claudia was so happy, no doubt tears were prickling her eyes. “So this boy is your friend?” She looked towards John, even he seemed surprised.

 

“Yeah! His name is Scott, and he asked me to ask if I could go to his house. So can I?” The small boy beamed. It had been far too long since the last time he looked this happy.

 

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea.” John said softly.

Stiles immediately looked as if he’s been slapped.

 

“But!” They all looked at Claudia. “But,” She said softer. “Maybe he could come here.” His mom offered, looking at John for reassurance. 

 

“That’s a good idea.” He said, nodding in agreement, then continuing his meal.

 

“Really?” There was that smile again.

 

“Yep. Just get his phone number, I’d like to have a chat with his mom first to make sure it’s okay with her. If so, I’m sure there isn’t any reason he couldn’t come over this weekend.”

 

“Yay! Thank you, thank you!” He was already up from his seat, headed towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” She called after him.

 

“To bed, that way tomorrow happens faster.” 

 

Even John laughed at that. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” She waited until she heard a quiet ‘I won’t’ before getting up as well to take her and Stiles’ nearly clean plate to the sink.

 

 

It wasn’t a night terror that kept the Stilinski’s up that night.

 

 

 

Scott McCall was a short boy,not nearly as short as Stiles. His skin was tan, opposite of Stiles’ pale, freckled skin. His hair was as black as a moonless night, and his eyes were a dark chocolate brown, unlike Stiles’ golden orbs. His smile stretched ear to ear, showing all of his teeth, other than the two missing in the front, which made a whistling sound when he spoke. He listened to Stiles’ rambling, God how Mrs. Stilinski loved her son’s rambling, but she’s never seen anyone else actually listen. She’s even caught John tune out, not that Stiles’ noticed or minded. The boy just loved to talk. And had somehow found the perfect friend who loved to listen just as much. Claudia liked this McCall kid.

 

 

It wasn’t from Stiles that she heard about Scott’s birthday party. It was from Mrs. McCall, Mellisa, who had actually become a great friend of hers. She hadn’t had a ‘girlfriend’ to gossip with or go out of town shopping with since, well, high school.

 

“So Scott’s 9th birthday today, and he already informed me that you wont let Stiles come. I hope I’m not overstepping a boundry here, but is there something I should know?”

 

Claudia Stilisnki knew she’d have to come out with the truth sooner or later. It wasn’t that she was ebarassed of her son, but because she was worried that Scott’s mom would run away, and take Scott with her. Some people just wouldn’t understand, but she knew Melissa was a good person, so she told her everything. All about the adoption, the abuse that she knows will never be fully revealed, and about Stiles’ mood swings and occasional night terrors. 

 

“Oh my-“ Mrs. McCall gasped into the phone. “I knew about the adoption, of course. Oh my God.” She sounded angry, Claud chewed at her already well worn nails. “Who the hell would hurt a child, especially a sweetheart like Stiles. I’m so sorry, Claudia, I had no idea.”

 

“It’s, well it’s hard sometimes. Thank you so much for understanding.”

 

“Really? You had nothing to be worried about, honestly, you know you can tell me anything.”

 

“I know,” She chuckled in relief.

 

“You know, if you’re worried about Stiles coming over, you could always come too. We can just cover your motherly watching with some girl talk.” 

 

“I think, if it’s okay with you, of course, that I don’t see a problem with letting him go. It’ll be his first time getting out of the house for a night, gotta let go sometime, right?”

 

“We’d love to have him over. If you’re sure he’ll be okay?”

 

“He’s been great recently. Less mood swings and he hasn’t had a nightmare in weeks.”

 

“I’m off today, I can come pick him up at yours once Scott get’s home.”

 

“Yeah, that’d work.”

 

“He’ll be fine. I’ll have him call you as many times as either of you wants, and if anything happens, I’m sure it wont, I wont have any issue with driving him back home.”

 

Claudia Stilinski let out a sigh. “Yes, that’s, that sounds good. Thank you.”

 

 

It wasn’t Stiles that was restless that night. It was the beautiful strawberry bonde, Claudia Stiliski that did. At first she thought it was because of Stiles’ first night out, but she got a call earlier before bed that gave her the reassurance she needed. No, it was an awful twinge in her gut. A pain, more of an uyncomfort maybe, she’s only experienced once before. She told herself it was impossible, just as all of the doctors told her. But the strange feeling continued, and she couldn’t stop tossing and turning.

 

“Claud?” John grumbled sleepily. “What is it, whats wrong?”

 

“I don’t really know how to explain it, but I think we need to go to the ER. I’m sorry.” She really didn’t want to make it a big thing, but somehow she knew something was going on.

 

John was already up, helping her out and to the door. She didn’t know what she would do without him.

 

 

“You’re doin’ just fine, Mrs. Stiliski.” The Doctor, not their usual since Melissa was off and it was such short notice. “And it seems the baby is too, now I didn’t see anything on your records about a-“

 

“Baby?!” Both her and her husband exclaimed in unison.

“Yes, oh, I see. You two weren’t planning?” She puzzled.

 

“Doctor, we’ve- she- for years. Well.” John was still in shock.

 

“What my husband is trying to say is, well, we’ve been told many times, by many doctors, that it was impossible for me to have children.” She could feel her husband’s hand on her face before she knew she was crying.

 

“Then, I’m here to tell you that it is indeed possible. And true by the looks of this 8 week old fetus. I owe you a congradulations.” She smiled genuinely. “I’ll just, uh, leave this with you and let you two- I’m sure you have some things to discuss.”

 

They sat together on the scrunched hospital bed, staring silently in awe at their little miracle. Then life caught back up and they both shot eachother the same look. “Stiles.” 

 

Claudia waited as long as she could to tell Stiles the news. He was family, and she knew it was wrong to do, but it was hard. What if he took it badly? Or if it was too good to be true? She couldn’t risk it. So Claud waited until she was getting sick from just anything smelly, until she couldn’t fit into her pants the way she once did, and eating the strangest of combinations. 

 

They sat him down when she thought she was ready. She wished he didn’t already look at her in such a fearful way. “Stiles.” She spoke quietly, but the boy flinched out anyway. How she wished she could reach out and touch his cheek, but if they learned anything when he acted like a small animal backed in a corner, it was to never try and touch him. That would make things worse. “We need to talk to you about something.”

 

“Did I do anything wrong?” He asked, oh God, did it hurt her heart.

“No kiddo, of course not.” John said calmly.

 

“Now sweetie, I know we’ve never discussed babies before, because it was never really a possibility for us, but-“

 

“You’re pregnant.” Stiles stated, emotionless.

 

“Yeah, baby, I am.”

They were all silent for a moment, the their son sighed out. “Should I pack my stuff, or did you guys do it for me?”

 

Claudia’s attempt at a smile for the initial conversation fell. “What?” Came out as a barely whisper, she could feel her heart beating in her ears. “Sweetie. No.”

“I get that you wanted me to be your kid till you could have one of your own.” 

Who had forced this boy to grow up so fast? Claudia wanted to find them and hurt them.

 

“Nothing. NOTHING in this world could make me want to give you up Stiles. Listen to me, to us. We love you more than anything in the world, you are our child. You’re my baby.” She did reach for him then. John crowded in, hugging the boy as well. At first he tried to push away, but then he cried out brokenly. Stiles pulled them in, clinging to them as if they would get up and leave. They would never leave him, no matter what.

 

They walked on eggshells for awhile after that, but things seemed okay, considering.

 

Never Hope.

 

Things were going great.

 

Never Hope.

 

“Mommy, I need to tell you something.” Stiles looked up at her, eyes bloodshot. “There’s a thing around you.”

 

“Oh?” She giggled. “You mean my pregnancy glow?” She posed, then broke into laughter.

 

“No.” The small boy whispered. “It’s not a glow.” Golden orbs widening.

 

There’s no way. 

 

Claudia had been scared for her son before, of course, what with the nightmares and his past. But she had never, ever been afraid of her son. 

 

“Promise me you wont leave the house for awhile. Please.”

“Stiles, I really don’t like-“

 

“Promise me, please.” Something in the boy’s voice sounded desperate. 

She played along, in the back of her head, in fear. NO, this was her son. “Yes, dear, I- I promise.”

 

Claudia was quiet all night, muttering her good-nights, and going to bed.

 

She couldn’t help herself, she was desperate for pizza. Of course, she could have ordered, but it had been three days since she got out for some fresh air.

 

Claudia Stilinski saw the dark, moving blur surrounding of the other passenger before she realized they were headed right for her. There wasn’t anytime to react anyway.

 

 

At that moment, she wishes she couldn’t feel a thing. No scratch that, she wished the doctors would get rid of this stupid IV so she could feel the physical pain rather than this horrid absence.

 

Drunk driver they tell her, died on impact. Asshole. Fucking asshole. He took her baby with him. Her baby didn’t survive. So much for a miracle. Why didn’t she see this before?

 

Never Hope.

 

 

His mommy was different. She hadn’t left her bed, other than to use the toilet- barely to shower, for 2 weeks now. He tried to tell her, but she went out anyway- NO- it wasn’t his mom’s fault. It was the other guys fault, that dead guy. His father said he deserved worse than death, but if death was what he got, hopefully he was rotting in hell. Stiles agreed.

 

He just wanted to see her, he missed her so much. When he got home from school, he crept upstairs to his parents room. 

 

It didn’t smell good, not like it usually did. If sadness had a smell, that was it. The shades were closed tight, practically no light coming in. Nothing moved but the dust. His mother was just a still lump on the bed. ”Mommy?” His voice was barely a whisper, a croak, as if he hadn’t ever used his voice before. “Mom.” He walked over a nudged the lump, lifting the blanket a bit. Stiles could barely recognize the person underneath. If it was even a person at all. 

 

She barely even stirred, but her lids opened, peering into him. “Stiles, baby?” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. They just looked at each other for the longest time. “You knew, didn’t you?”

 

“I-“

 

“You saw it, and that’s why you told me to stay home. Isn’t it?” She laughed, but not like any laugh she’d ever made before. “I see them too, you know? I saw it on the man that killed my baby.”

 

Stiles stood there, shocked.

 

“I saw it on you too, but I saved you. God, I love you.” She pet her son’s cheek. Then, that chuckle again, before smacking her son right in the face. 

 

Stiles was out of the room before Claudia could realize what she’d done. She tried yelling for him, trying to apologize.

 

John went to Stiles’ room after checking on Claudia first, to explain to him that his mother was sorry. To explain what she was going through.

 

“I understand, I’m not mad.” He knew that his mommy loved him.

 

Claudia got worse. She was moved from her bed, to a hospital bed. Stiles’ saw the grey blur moving slowly around her the first time he got to visit her. He knew this was permanent.

 

“I’m fine Stiles. I’ll be outa here before your birthday. Love you baby.” 

 

“You already see it don’t you? Don’t lie to me!”

 

“Why don’t you visit me more? I bet you’re it’s daddy’s fault huh?”

 

“The only reason I adopted you, was so that you didn’t die and leave me with the guilt.” She hissed.

 

“This is all your fault.”

 

She lost the ability to talk after that. 

 

A couple of times she lost the ability to breathe.

 

More than a couple.

 

She didn’t even look at them when they visited anymore. But that didn’t stop them from talking. Stiles’ mommy told him she loved when he talked.

 

The blur was blackest of blacks. But Stiles tried not to focus on that. His mom was finally looking at him. Even with that last breath.

 

Just like that. She was gone. 

Well, not instantly. They all knew for several dreadful months that this was not something she would get back up from. For months she had struggled, and for months she fought, and for months she laid there, and for months she just stopped. So maybe the person they knew died a long time ago, but it was their hope that didn't. No. Their hope lasted until the moment everything came crashing down. When one last silent breath was released, and none other was taken. When the heart monitor screamed, flat lining and calling in nurses and doctors. They all rushed in, prepared to give it their all. But their all wasn't enough to get her to breathe, to revive her. Nothing was enough to bring back Mommy. And with her, hope was dead as well. 

 

What made him think there was ever any hope? 

 

This was all his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for Canon Death and miscarriage.
> 
>  
> 
> I'M SO SORRY. The last time I wrote for this story, just after, 2 people close to my family/friends took their own lives and I kinda just quit writing. I didn't really have a muse anymore. I also had to unhook my computer, due to a leak in my ceiling and that was fixed a couple of months ago I think. Just recently i was going to try and start up again, but my sisters husband went a cheated on her and my family was out of wack. Especially because they live with us. And some more recent news with some siblings(I have 11) moving back and one coming up for the holidays before he leaves for another tour for the army. So that's this past like however long in a nutshell. Not all bad though! I've been trying to reel in me a man, kinda taking forever though. Like 9 months forever. 
> 
> BUT! I love you guys, thank you so much for commenting and telling me how much you missed this story. I wish I could tell you when the next chapter is in, but I honestly just really really wanted to get this one out to all of you. For my gratitude. That would be the reason for mistakes and weird spacing. I'll come clean it when I get the chance. And hopefully watch the newest season of teen wolf as well -_-
> 
> Love you guys <3


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